


Just Like an Angel

by summersocietyy



Series: vienna. [6]
Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, with a lil bit of anxiety sprinkled it bc who doesn't love that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:15:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26962003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/summersocietyy/pseuds/summersocietyy
Summary: Until Parker lets out the tiniest giggle. She rolls over, poking her head over the side of the couch to find Spencer sprawled between it and the coffee table as he tries to catch his breath, and she giggles again as she takes in his rumpled appearance. The sound of her laughter makes a giggle erupt up from Spencer as well, and soon enough they’re both laughing louder and brighter and harder than either of them has in a long time.
Relationships: Spencer Reid/Original Female Character(s)
Series: vienna. [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1727104
Comments: 8
Kudos: 21





	Just Like an Angel

_ If music be the food of love, play on. - William Shakespeare, Twelfth Night _

_ August 9, 2010 _

Spencer comes home late one night, surprised to find the light in the kitchen on - either Parker is awake or she forgot to turn the light off, but her voice floating towards him softly from the kitchen tells him that she’s up. He’s more surprised, though, to hear that Parker is  _ singing _ . He hasn’t heard her sing since she came home, and he missed it. Apparently she didn’t hear him come in, because she pays him no mind when he leans against the kitchen doorway, watching her with a small, tender smile. 

She’s perched cross-legged on the counter, wiggling her shoulders lightly as she sings softly and pokes at a bowl of cookie dough. He strains for a moment to hear what she’s singing, smiling to himself when he recognizes the tune as an old Beatles song. Shifting his weight, he winces just so when a floorboard creaks, and Parker whips around with a sharp inhale. 

“Jesus, Spencer!” She gasps, putting her hand to her chest. She falls back to lay against the counter for a moment, willing her heartbeat to return to its normal pace, and Spencer smiles sheepishly as he pads into the kitchen. 

“Sorry.” He says, wrinkling his nose. Parker huffs quietly and sits up again, turning so her legs are dangling off the side of the counter. Spencer’s hips bump against her knees lightly and she smiles just so, reaching out to fiddle with one of the buttons on his cardigan. She asks about work and he tells her, his fingers brushing against the outsides of her knees delicately as their soft voices fill the night.

“Why didn’t you say anything when you came in?” She asks finally, wrinkling her nose at him. He chuckles softly and shrugs, reaching up to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear gently.

“I didn’t think you’d be up.” He says honestly, his thumb brushing against the apple of her cheek softly. “And you were singing. I haven’t heard you sing since you’ve been home.” Parker is silent for a minute, turning her head to Spencer’s touch just so.

“I miss singing.” She admits finally, her voice little more than a whisper. Spencer hums softly, stepping back as Parker slides off the counter and stifles a yawn behind her hand. Smiling gently, he drops a kiss to the crown of her head and brushes her back.

“Let’s get you to bed.” He says softly, guiding her out of the kitchen. She shuffles along beside him, glancing up with a small smile. She crawls into bed and burrows down into her pillows. He settles the blanket over her, pausing when she catches his wrist.

“Will you stay?”

Without hesitation, he settles on the bed beside her, humming softly when she drapes the blanket over his thin frame. She tucks herself into his side, resting her cheek against his shoulder, and he falls asleep to the sound of her humming softly as her fingers brush along his side.

****

_ December 1, 2010 _

Spencer is guest-speaking at a lecture with Hotch today, and seriously considered not going when he asked Penelope if she would stay with Parker for the day and she declined with an  _ I would, boy wonder, but my brother’s coming to town. I’m so sorry! _ He’d been about to jog up into Hotch’s office when Rossi had paused by his desk and offered to let Parker spend some time at his house, and Spencer had been so grateful he’d almost hugged Rossi.

Which is how Parker finds herself standing in front of the bigass door of Rossi’s bigass mansion with Spencer at his side. 

“When you said he was rich, I didn’t realize you meant like,  _ rich _ -rich.” She breathes as Spencer rings the bell. He laughs softly, nodding once.

“He’s a successful author, Sunshine. And he founded the BAU.” He tells her. She hums, fiddling with the hem of her (his) cardigan absently as Rossi swings the door open and greets them both with a warm smile. Parker offers a wave, glancing at Spencer and tipping her head just so when he leans down to kiss her cheek. “I’ll pick you up around seven.” 

“Have fun.” She says, watching him go before turning to Rossi. He smiles again, and Parker is reminded again of her maternal grandfather. 

“Are you hungry?” He asks suddenly, gesturing down the hall towards what Parker can only assume is the kitchen. “I’m making lasagna.” Parker nods, perking up a little, and when she asks shyly if she can help, Rossi smiles broadly and nods. They spend a few hours in the kitchen together, making and baking the lasagna as well as a few other dishes and desserts, and when Rossi finds out that Parker and her brothers are first-generation Americans from an Italian family, he looks like Christmas has come a month early.

When Spencer returns (promptly at 7:15, thank you very much), Rossi answers the door with a glass of wine and a smile. He asks about the lecture and Spencer fills him in, grimacing when Rossi asks if he tried another one of his existential jokes. That’s all the answer Rossi needs.

Parker is nowhere to be seen at first, and for a moment, Spencer panics. But then gentle piano music floats towards him, and he glances at Rossi with furrowed brows. Rossi jerks his head for Spencer to follow him, and they pause in the doorway to a sitting room. Parker is perched on a piano bench, plunking at keys slowly, playing a song Spencer almost recognizes.

“She’s been in here for a couple hours.” Rossi tells him softly. Spencer watches Parker, his heart aching dully - it feels  _ right _ to see her sitting at a piano. “Walked by and saw the thing. Asked if she could play it and I told her she could. Nobody’s ever played it before.”

“She took lessons when she was a kid.” Spencer says softly. Rossi nods, humming. He squeezes Spencer’s shoulder lightly before slipping away, heading back towards the kitchen. Spencer is about to pad into the room when Parker starts singing softly, and for a moment he feels like he can’t breathe.

She’s quiet at first, so quiet he thinks he’s imagining her voice over the piano notes. But when she gets to the chorus, her voice soft and scratchy as she sings  _ Vienna waits for you _ , he knows he’s not. He stays where he is, watching as she progresses in the song, losing herself in the music more and more, and he’s reminded again of one of the countless reasons he fell so in love with her when they were children.

  
  


****

_ February 3, 2011 _

To say that Spencer is reluctant to let Parker help with this case is an understatement. It’s close to home, at least, so they don’t have to fly her out anywhere, and he can take her straight home afterwards, but that doesn’t exactly make it  _ better _ . But she matches the unsub’s type almost perfectly and she’d volunteered, and though he’d argued it, Hotch had told him that this might be their best chance at catching their unsub. He’d also promised that the rest of the team would be posted around the bar and locals would be just outside, ready to catch the unsub should he try to escape.

Still, as Spencer watches Parker disappear into the locker room with Emily and JJ, he can’t help but feel anxious and frustrated and  _ terrified _ . 

Parker, also anxious and terrified, finds that she’s a little excited, too. Excited to be doing something so out of her comfort zone, excited to be helping. Excited to possibly be saving lives? Definitely saving lives. 

“So he’s been getting girls from that jazz club that Rossi goes to?” She asks, glancing over her shoulder as she shimmies out of her jeans. JJ nods, holding the dress out as Parker strips off her shirt as well. She takes the dress with a thank you and slides it on, brushing her hands down the front to smooth out any wrinkles. 

Emily whistles as she turns around, and Parker strikes a pose, fluffing her hair lightly as she does so. Digging her makeup out of her bag, she perches on a bench and starts on her lipstick. 

“We wanna make sure you catch his attention, so Rossi pulled some strings.” Emily says. Parker raises a brow at her in the mirror. “I hope you can sing, blondie, ‘cause you’re performing tonight.” Parker’s eyes widen and she turns around, staring at Emily, who grins at her. 

She hasn’t sung in  _ years _ . Granted, she sang at Rossi’s house the day Spencer had a lecture, and she’s been singing in the kitchen and the shower, but that doesn’t count. She doesn’t even know if she  _ can _ sing anymore, really sing like she used to - there was a reason she was cast as Maria in  _ The Sound of Music _ . But now, so many years later, with her vocal chords shot the way they are from so much time spent screaming, she’s not sure.

JJ comes over and perches next to her, touching her arm gently. Parker turns to look at her, and she knows from the look on JJ’s face that she looks terrified.

“You don’t have to do this, Parker.” JJ says gently. “If you’re not comfortable with it, we’ll figure something else out. We’ll catch this guy, no matter what.” Parker shakes her head quickly, exhaling.

“No. No, I can do this. I can do this.” She says, and she’s not entirely sure if she’s reassuring herself or JJ and Emily more. As she follows the girls back out of the locker room, her hair tickles against her bare back and she shivers a little. The air in the office is absolutely freezing, and the thin straps and low back of this dress don’t help. As she slips back into the bullpen with the girls, she can feel eyes on her from the conference room and her cheeks flush a little. She follows JJ up the stairs and into the conference room, smoothing her skirt absently.

Morgan wolf whistles playfully and she winks lightly, putting her hands on her hips. Hotch glances up as Garcia hurries over, sky-high platform heels in hand, but Parker’s eyes are searching for Spencer. She finds him sitting beside Hotch, eyes focused fiercely on the file in his hands, and she sighs quietly. Hotch goes over the plan again, and when everyone starts to file out, Parker hangs back to put her shoes on while Spencer packs his messenger bag. 

“Spencer.” She says softly, watching him. She shifts her weight when he looks up, raising a brow at her. “Say something, please. You haven’t said a word to me since I said I’d help.”

Spencer purses his lips, slinging his bag over his shoulder.

“There’s nothing to say.” He says simply. “You’re helping. Great. Thanks.” He moves towards the door, sighing when Parker steps in front of him. He knows the look in her eyes - the look that says  _ we’re not going anywhere until you talk to me _ . It’s the same look she’d worn the one and only time they’d gotten in a fight as kids, when she had turned up at his house an hour and a half later with two popsicles, determined to earn his forgiveness. “What, Parker?” 

“Talk to me!” She demands, crossing her arms. Spencer sighs, moving back to the table and leaning against it, crossing his own arms.

“We don’t have time for this.” He says shortly.

“Make time.” She retorts, moving closer. “Your unsub’s not going anywhere except that bar looking for his next victim.”

“And you’re willingly throwing yourself in there  _ to be his next victim _ !” Spencer snaps, louder than he means to. He’s hyper aware of the rest of the team out in the bullpen, stealing glances back into the round table room, but he ignores them. “God, Parker - after everything you went through, this is the last thing I’d expect you to do-”

“I’m trying to help!” She snaps back, cutting him off. “Spencer,  _ after everything I went through _ , all I want to do is help. If I can help here, if I can help save lives and keep this guy from killing anyone else, why the hell shouldn’t I?” 

“You’re not trained for any of this!” He tells her sharply. She scoffs and flops her hands.

“I’m gonna be up on a stage  _ singing _ , Spencer. It’s not like I’m gonna be shooting at the guy.” She says. “Look, I get it, okay? You’re pissed. Fine, be pissed. But don’t do it by ignoring me. Especially now.” 

“Pissed?! I’m way beyond pissed, Parker, I’m fucking  _ angry _ .” He says, his voice picking up pace rapidly. Parker startles a little - Spencer doesn’t swear often, and when he does, it means that whatever he’s feeling, he’s feeling it  _ hard _ . “I’m angry and I’m  _ scared _ and-” He snaps his mouth shut, pressing his lips together hard and looking away. Parker’s burning gaze softens and she steps forward, reaching for Spencer’s hand gently. He lets her wrap her little fingers around his, not looking at her and clenching his jaw.

“Spencer.” She says softly, dipping her head to catch his eye. “Hey, look at me. C’mon.” His eyes dart over, meeting hers, but he doesn’t turn his head. Parker reaches up and touches her fingers to his jaw, turning him to her gently and brushing his cheek. 

“I’m gonna be okay.” She promises quietly, stepping closer to him. Releasing his hand, she reaches up and cups both of his cheeks gently. “You’re gonna be there, and so is the rest of the team. I know you’re not gonna let anything happen to me.” Sighing quietly, Spencer feels himself deflate and he brings his hands up to rest on Parker’s waist gently. 

“I can’t lose you, Parker.” He says, his voice barely above a whisper. “Not again.” Parker shakes her head gently and presses into Spencer’s space, winding her arms around his neck gently. He wraps his own arms around her waist slowly, closing his eyes and pressing his face to her shoulder. Parker’s fingers running slowly through his hair are calming, and her nails scratching just so against his scalp send a shiver down his spine. 

“You’re not gonna lose me.” She whispers in his ear. “I’m not going anywhere, I promise.” She pulls away and cups his cheeks again, pulling him back down to her level and pressing a kiss to the center of his forehead. When she leans back and brushes his cheeks again, she gives him a small smile. He tries to give one in return, but he knows he fails. “It’ll be okay.” She whispers.

Sighing softly, he nods and closes his eyes for a moment. He opens them again when he feels Parker lean away and start to rub a tissue against his forehead. He raises a brow in question, his heart lifting just a little when she giggles softly.

“I left a lipstick print.” She murmurs. He holds still while she wipes it off, squeezing her hips lightly when she steps back. 

“You do look gorgeous.” He says softly, brushing a hand down her arm. He catches her hand in his and she squeezes his fingers tightly for a moment. Hotch calls for the two of them then, and Parker exhales softly and flashes Spencer a nervous smile before she slips out of the room and down the stairs.

He watches her go before trailing after her, sighing softly. He hates this, but he knows she’s right. And with any luck, she’ll rediscover her love of being onstage - he’s seen the way she’s been eyeing the piano every time they’ve been to Rossi’s house.

****

Parker’s never been on a stage like the one out front before. Sure, she’d sung at local coffee shops once or twice as a teenager, and she’d been in musicals in school, but she’d never sung in a club before - much less a  _ jazz club _ of all places. She sits in the back, going over the sheet music carefully and humming to herself. She’s surprised to see that she’ll be singing songs she actually knows - Creep, Lovefool, even Don’t Stop Me Now, as well as a handful of others that she doesn’t know but seem easy enough. Someone’s taken them and turned them into jazz numbers, and she’s intrigued to say the least. 

She hears her name called and shakes herself a little, smoothing her skirt and standing. She’d introduced herself to the band when she had arrived, the team not far behind but coming in separately, and they’d welcomed her with open arms and warm smiles. The band consists of a saxophone player (Johnny), a trumpet player and drummer (Eric), a bassist and cellist (Willy), and a pianist (Scott) and they were so kind Parker thought she could cry. When she slips onto the stage, the lights are dim and Eric is sitting behind the drum set. He winks at Parker and she smiles nervously, taking her spot beside the other singer for the night.

He had introduced himself earlier this evening as Ronnie, and he’s tall and charming and funny, but there’s something about him that sets Parker on edge just a little. Parker smiles at him and he returns the smile easily, nodding at Scott. Parker takes a slow breath as Ronnie starts singing, the spotlight finding him easily. He makes it through the first verse, and when the chorus starts, Parker finds herself falling into the song like she’s been singing it her whole life. Ronnie takes a moment as the song finishes to introduce himself and Parker, grinning when she gives a little curtsy and wave. They go through a few songs like this before Ronnie slips off the stage to get himself a drink and tells Parker to break a leg.

Suddenly terrified, Parker stands alone in front of the microphone now and clears her throat quietly. When she glances at Scott over her shoulder, he gives her an encouraging smile and nod, and she starts in on Creep. She loses herself in the music, much like she used to as a teenager, and the rest of the world seems to melt away. This isn’t the way she knows the song, but it feels so natural to be up on a stage singing anything at all - she  _ missed  _ this so much more than she realized. She knows her voice isn’t the same - her throat hurts as she hits the runs in the song, and she can hear the hoarseness coming through as she tries to belt a few of the notes, but she’s hitting them and she thinks she could  _ cry _ . 

At the bar, Morgan and Prentiss sit close together, both of their eyes widening as they watch Parker on the stage. 

“Did you know she could sing like that?” Prentiss whispers, touching Morgan’s arm when Parker belts near the end of the song. Morgan shakes his head, staring at the little blonde in front of them.

“I didn’t know she could sing at  _ all _ .” He says honestly. It warms his heart to see Parker up there. She’s come so far in such a short amount of time - to see her blossom from the terrified girl he’d met in the hospital almost a year ago, to this gorgeous young woman in front of him, singing her heart out like she’s been doing it her whole life makes him proud.

Spencer, sitting across the room at a booth with Rossi, thinks he could cry. He sits with his chin in his palm, watching Parker in the spotlight, his heart squeezing painfully in his chest. Though he’d argued ferociously about her participating in this, he’d be lying if he said she didn’t look  _ right _ standing up on that stage. He claps with the rest of the captivated audience as the song finishes, and Parker throws a broad, warm smile around the room, her cheeks flushed bright pink as she steps off the stage.

The band starts in on an instrumental for a while as Parker hurries to the bar and requests a glass of water. She downs half of it, thanking the bartender, and looks around the room, doing a mental count of the team; Morgan and Prentiss nearby at the bar, Hotch across the room with JJ, Spencer and Rossi on the other side of the room. She catches Spencer’s eye and smiles around her straw, her heart stuttering in her chest when he winks at her. She giggles quietly and exhales, shaking herself a little and moving to the door leading to the alleyway behind the bar. Spencer watches her go, on high alert for anyone following her.

Parker slips out the door, making sure to prop it with the brick left beside it as a doorstop, and leans against the opposite wall, catching her breath. The cold evening air stings her skin and makes her feel a little clammy after the warmth and excitement of the bar, but it’s welcome. Closing her eyes, she breathes slowly for a few minutes, gasping when she opens them again to find Ronnie standing in front of her.

“Jesus.” She breathes, putting a hand to her chest and laughing softly, “You scared me.” Ronnie smiles, shrugging.

“Sorry.” He says, though he doesn’t sound apologetic at all. Parker waves a hand and Ronnie continues. “You were great in there.” She smiles and nods, willing her heart to return to its normal pace.

“Thanks.” She says, shifting her weight absently. “I used to sing all the time, I did musicals in high school and stuff. I haven’t in a while, though - and I’ve never done anything like that, it was.. Amazing.”

Ronnie nods slowly, watching her. Parker shifts under his gaze, clearing her throat and pushing away from the wall.

“I should head back in.” She says, waving a hand. As she starts to move around him, he catches her wrist and stops her in her tracks. 

“Y’know, we could have something special.” He says, turning Parker towards him. Her breath hitches and she tries to pull her wrist from his grasp, wincing a little when his grip tightens. “You and me. We could really go somewhere. Be something great.”

“I’m uh - I’m good being something great right here in DC.” Parker says, still trying to pull her arm from Ronnie’s hand. “But thanks.” 

The look in Ronnie’s eyes changes almost instantly - he goes from warm and flirty to dangerous and cold almost faster than Parker can blink, and her heart rate skyrockets, blood pumping loudly in her ears. 

“You’re all the same, aren’t you?” He asks, his voice low. Parker swallows nervously, pushing at his hand around her wrist with her free one. 

“Ronnie, let me go.” She says anxiously. 

“You all think you’re too damn good for me, is that it?” Ronnie continues, stepping closer. Parker tries to step away, yelping quietly when he yanks her closer. “I thought you’d be different.  _ Special _ . You got up there on stage with me, you  _ sang _ with me. I thought we’d have something special, but you’re just like all the rest.”

“You’re hurting me, let go-” Parker says again, pushing at Ronnie’s hand harder. “Ronnie, don’t-” He tugs her closer again, so she’s flush against his chest, and she wants to scream but her breath is stuck in her throat and she can’t make a sound. But she recognizes the look in his eyes, remembers the same look in Jacob Malloy’s eyes for so many years, and she makes the split second decision that although she’s terrified, she will  _ not _ be a victim again.

Glad that he’d left the door open still, Parker takes her opportunity when she hears a lull in the music from inside and  _ screams _ . She screams as loud as she can, at the top of her lungs, glad that her singing this evening hasn’t rendered her totally hoarse.

Inside, Spencer’s been watching the door intently since Parker slipped out, ready to go after her if she doesn’t come back in a moment. He’d watched Ronnie slip out as well, and he taps the table absently, humming to himself. There’s a lull in the music as the band rearranges, and in that moment, an ear-splitting scream sounds from the door to the alleyway. Spencer is out of his seat in a heartbeat, bolting straight for the door, his heart hammering dangerously. The rest of the team isn’t far behind him, all of them coming to a stumbling halt when they shove through the door and find Parker pressed against Ronnie’s chest, a gun to her temple.

Spencer’s heart is pounding a hundred miles a minute, and he can barely hear anything over the blood rushing in his ears. Parker, to her credit, hardly looks scared. Her hands are curled around Ronnie’s arm wrapped around her shoulders tightly and she almost looks resigned. But Spencer knows her tells, and he can see her chin wobbling as she bites the inside of her bottom lip in an attempt to stop it. Her hands tremble against Ronnie’s thick arm, and her eyes search frantically until they land on Spencer. 

“Ronnie, you don’t have to do this.” Morgan says coolly, taking half a step forward. Parker tenses just so when Ronnie presses the gun against her temple harder, squeezing her eyes shut for a moment. Spencer is vaguely aware of what’s going on, only really half paying attention until Ronnie starts to move and a gunshot rings through the alley. Morgan’s gun is smoking as Ronnie collapses behind Parker, and Parker hasn’t moved.

As the rest of the team starts to deal with Ronnie and the locals, Spencer hurries forward to Parker. Her breaths are coming in unsteady gasps as she stares straight ahead, and blood is spattered across her cheek and jaw. When Spencer reaches out to touch her arm gently, she jerks a little, her eyes focusing on him after a moment. 

“Let’s go clean you up.” He says gently, brushing her hair back. She nods unsteadily, clinging to his hand as she follows him inside. He finds the bathroom and lets them in, helping Parker perch on the counter as he grabs a handful of paper towels and wets them in the sink. He cleans the blood from her cheek delicately, focusing intently as Parker tips her head, her eyes roaming over a poster of Etta James on the opposite wall. 

“I wasn’t scared.” She says after a while. Spencer glances up at her as he dabs at her jaw, his brows furrowing. She’s quiet for a moment longer while he finishes cleaning her up, then her eyes settle on him again. “I was at first. When I first realized that it - that he was the one doing it. And then I started thinking about.. About Malloy, and the people he hurt, and about the girls that Ronnie hurt, and I knew that - that even if something happened to me, I could do something about  _ him _ .”

“Parker-” Spencer starts, but she continues, twisting a bit of her skirt absently.

“But I knew nothing was gonna happen to me, ‘cause I knew you wouldn’t let anything happen to me.” She murmurs, watching him. Spencer shakes his head, brushing Parker’s wrist when her fingers settle against his cheek.

“Never.” He whispers. Parker offers a small half-smile, but before Spencer can say or do anything else, someone knocks at the door.

“Hey, kid!” Comes Morgan’s voice. Spencer clears his throat, stepping away from Parker and opening the door. Morgan quirks a brow at the rosy tint to Spencer’s cheeks, but says nothing about it. “Locals have to take Parker’s statement.” Spencer nods, glancing over his shoulder as Parker’s heels click against the floor lightly. She brushes his arm as she passes him, taking Morgan’s arm lightly when he offers it. As they walk away, Spencer can hear Morgan asking how she’s doing and Parker’s sweet voice returning that she’s okay.

He hovers nearby as Parker gives her statement, first to the locals, then to Hotch. When they’re finally told they can leave, Morgan drives them home in one of the SUVs. Spencer hops out first, moving to open Parker’s door and hovering by the curb when she stops at the driver’s side door. She thanks Morgan before leaning forward to press a tiny kiss to his cheek, and he grins.

“Any time, pretty girl.” He says, squeezing her shoulder lightly before looking over her head to meet Spencer’s eye. “Hotch said to take tomorrow off. You two relax, you hear me?” Spencer nods, offering Parker a hand as she steps up onto the curb. They wave as Morgan drives away before heading inside, Parker stopping just inside the lobby to yank her shoes off.

“My feet are  _ killing  _ me.” She grumbles, rubbing one foot against her shin lightly as she hooks two fingers in the back of the shoes. “How does Penelope walk in these all day?” It’s a rhetorical question, Spencer knows, so he doesn’t answer, just lets Parker lead the way to the stairs as he watches her, his brain running faster and faster by the second.

He needs to touch her. Needs to run his hands through her hair, hold her in the tightest embrace either of them can bear, just to reassure himself that she’s really still there. He follows her up the stairs quietly, watching the way the dim lights catch on the almost imperceptible sparkles of her shoes. At the door to the apartment, she pauses to take her key out of her tiny clutch. She sticks the key into the lock, but before she can turn it, Spencer reaches out and grabs Parker’s wrist, turning her towards him quickly.

She looks up, blinking at him and furrowing her brows. Her eyes roam his face curiously, and before she can ask what the deal is, he backs her into the wall gently and leans down, taking her face between his hands and pressing a kiss to her mouth. There’s an echoing clatter as she drops her shoes to the hardwood floor of the hall and throws her arms around his neck. 

He’d almost forgotten just how  _ delicious _ it is to kiss her.

He’s always compared her hair to honey, but she tastes like honey, too. Honey and green tea and the minty gum she’d been chewing earlier. He remembers their first kiss, soft and sweet and unsure. He’d panicked for a moment, thinking briefly that he’d ruined everything between them, but then she’d dragged him down to her level and kissed him again, and the world had felt  _ right _ . She’d tasted like honey that night, too - honey and lavender tea and the cinnamon ice cream she’d had for dessert. 

This kiss is different.

Where their first kiss had been soft and tender, this kiss is hard, desperate,  _ wanting _ . With Parker pressed between his body and the wall just outside the apartment, her hands tangling into his hair as his roam down her ribs to wrap securely around her waist, the world feels right again. When they break apart, both breathless and wide-eyed, Spencer lifts a hand to cup Parker’s cheek gently. She stares up at him, trying to catch her breath as he brushes a thumb over her lips lightly.

It’s the way she whispers his name that makes him close his eyes again. She removes one hand from his hair gently and brushes her fingers against the back of his hand on her cheek, before curling them around his wrist lightly. 

“I was so scared he was gonna take you from me.” He whispers. Parker’s eyes soften and she removes her other hand from Spencer’s hair, letting it slide to the side of his neck and brushing her thumb against his jaw gently. 

“Nobody’s gonna take me from you.” She whispers back, pulling him closer and resting her forehead against his. “I promise.” Spencer swallows thickly, but before he can say anything else, Parker is pushing onto her toes and kissing him again. His heart thunders in his ribs and he wonders if she can hear it as well. He wraps his arms around her waist again and presses her flush against himself, his hands splaying open on her back. 

She gropes behind herself for the doorknob, and as soon as the door is open they stumble into the apartment together. He kicks the door shut behind them and attaches his lips to Parker’s again. He’s barely aware that they’re still moving until he backs her into the couch and the sudden appearance of Newton’s First Law sends them tumbling over the furniture. A tiny shriek and a yelp leave both of them as Parker manages to fall onto the couch and Spencer onto the floor, and then the apartment is filled with silence.

Until Parker lets out the tiniest giggle. She rolls over, poking her head over the side of the couch to find Spencer sprawled between it and the coffee table as he tries to catch his breath, and she giggles again as she takes in his rumpled appearance. The sound of her laughter makes a giggle erupt up from Spencer as well, and soon enough they’re both laughing louder and brighter and harder than either of them has in a long time. 

Eventually, Parker reaches down and curls a hand in the front of Spencer’s shirt, dragging him up as he pushes himself off the floor. She hauls him onto the couch and kisses him again, the occasional giggles still bubbling from her lips making Spencer grin. 

****

Later that night when they’re tangled together in bed, Spencer's breathing slow and even while Parker brushes her fingers along his collarbone absently, she presses a kiss to his shoulder. 

“I love you.” She whispers. And when his arm tightens around her minutely, she remembers the evening in the hammock, and she knows he loves her too. 

_ To love another person is to see the face of God. - Musician Herbert Kretzmer _

**Author's Note:**

> i have a voice claim for parker when she sings!! it's haley reinhart, and the songs parker sings in this oneshot (specifically mad world, lovefool, and creep) are covers haley's done with scott bradlee's postmodern jukebox! i highly suggest you check them out if not for the fic just because they're FUN


End file.
